


take the sunshine with the rain (hit me like a hurricane)

by etherealbarnes



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, M/M, bad boy!hansol (sorta), chan and kyulkyung are the best friends ever, seungkwan fails at pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-28 08:04:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15044393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etherealbarnes/pseuds/etherealbarnes
Summary: Hansol looked down at him with what Seungkwan liked to think as an amused look in his eyes. They part with a small ‘see you around’ exchange and Seungkwan thought he was safe from making more of an embarassment out of himself until Hansol had turned around again as soon as he reached his own door, whispering a low “Caught you checking me out at the lobby,” with a knowing smirk on his face.Seungkwan couldn’t will the creeping blush on his face down even if he tried to.or: Seungkwan and Hansol are neighbours who take too long to discover that they like each other.Lots of good food and silly boys kissing drunk with some volleyballs games and late nights wandering. You should probably hire Kyulkyung and Chan as supporters in any events and did I mention drunk boys kissing?





	1. Seungkwan

**Author's Note:**

> Yeay for my first chaptered work! Boo and Vernon are honestly so cute together ugh.
> 
> Title shamelessly ripped off Florrie's Real Love (if you haven't listened to it already please do, such a delivering bop).
> 
> This work would probably have around four to five chapters and will be updated on Mondays (hopefully).

Boo Seungkwan was torn.

Torn between feeling utterly fucking pissed that the fire alarm blared at god knows what hour it was way past bedtime and also utterly blessed that his too cute and too hot at the same time of an American neighbour went running out just in his trunks. It pained Seungkwan more when said neighbour still managed to look absolutely amazing that it's almost unreal even with droopy eyes and dirty blonde strands sticking out in a very wild manner. A lot of the other elderly neighbours were giving hot neighbour disapproving looks but it didn’t really get to him.

Seungkwan’s right eye twitched as the apartment manager tried his utmost best to calm other tenants down; even though there weren't many to calm down in the first place. Most of them too tired and sleepy to care. The whole procedure was taking longer than he'd expected and it was cold outside, so he gripped on his sweater tighter. He looked around the lobby, scanning faces all the while trying his best to avoid looking at the hot neighbour, but ended up glancing his way again. Well in Seungkwan’s defence, it's hard to tear your gaze away from someone who was literally half naked, standing a couple of feet away from you. 

As if running around half naked didn't already phase him, hot neighbour didn't even looked remotely uncomfortable or plain cold in it. Meanwhile Seungkwan’s knuckles were turning white. Maybe it was an American thing? Seungkwan tried not to think about it as much as he tried not to look at him anymore. Obviously he failed at both, miserably.

About 20 minutes later, the residents were finally allowed to go back in their homes. Seungkwan had wanted to curse out loud in relief, but held back when a couple of kids ran past him. He took the stairs instead of the elevator to his floor; knowing that the latter would definitely be full as other residents scramble back to their floors. His was the third anyway. What he didn't knew instead, was hot neighbour trailing behind him, silently yawning every now and then.

It wasn’t until he reached his door and fumbled with his keys when he became aware of this fact. Seungkwan didn’t notice at first; too busy trying to slot his keys in the correct orientation, but hot neighbour swiftly moved past him and yawned so loudly that it made Seungkwan drop his keys when he flinched.

Hot neighbour stopped in his track and crouched down, trying to pick up the keys. 

“Oh fuck. Sorry, didn’t mean to shock you or anything,” he’d said and  _ oh shit  _ Seungkwan didn’t even get to recover from the initial shock and now he was just stunned and gaping and  _ gaping  _ because  _ holy shit; _ his too hot of a neighbour in the too cold of night just talked to him for the first time and that voice sounded so rough in its core yet smooth and just dripping around the edges and Seungkwan thought the brown carpet under his feet might’ve just swallow him whole.

“These are yours, right?” the voice cut Seungkwan out of his momentary trance. Seungkwan tried to look anywhere but down past hot neighbour’s neck but  _ damn it  _ he’s got to look down to get his keys. From hot neighbour’s hands. Of course.

“Uh-oh yeah,” he’d stammered out and: “Thanks.”

Hot neighbour drew out a lazy smile and Seungkwan watched again as the hazelnut orbs that were hot neighbour’s beautiful eyes turn into half crescents and god was that more beautiful than any picture of an actual moon he’d ever seen. 

Seungkwan managed to retrieve his keys without dropping it again. 

He waited for hot neighbour to turn around and resume his walk back to his apartment, so when the other stood there for a beat longer Seungkwan almost raised a curious brow. Hot neighbour must’ve noticed this because he produced another sleepy smile and held out his hand once again.

“I’m Hansol, by the way. Been living next to you for two months, I think? Never got your name before.”

_ Seungkwan was falling. _

“You don’t look like a Hansol,” he blurted without thinking and immediately raised a hand to cover his mouth after that. “Shit I’m sorry that was really unnecessary.”

Great, he’s gonna mess up their first ever actual conversation. Smooth, Boo Seungkwan. Super smooth. 

He’d expected for Hansol to retreat the hand, turn the smile into a scowl and walk back to his apartment but that didn’t happen. Hansol did retreat his hand, but only to place it on his stomach as his body falls back into a small laughter. Seungkwan thought he had fallen deeper into whatever this small crush had grown out to be.

“I get that a lot. S’ fine, really. My mother’s maiden name is Vernon, if that makes you feel better,” Hansol tried to straighten himself back up and held out a hand, trying once again. This time, Seungkwan shook it properly.

“I’m Boo Seungkwan.”

Hansol looked down at him with what Seungkwan liked to think as an amused look in his eyes. They part with a small ‘see you around’ exchange and Seungkwan thought he was safe from making more of an embarassment out of himself until Hansol had turned around again as soon as he reached his own door, whispering a low “Caught you checking me out at the lobby,” with a knowing smirk on his face.

Seungkwan couldn’t will the creeping blush on his face down even if he tried to.

 

* * *

 

“So you’re saying-” Chan had said during lunch, “-that the hot American neighbour you keep on crying out to us actually talked to you? First?”

Seungkwan wanted to bury himself in his bowl of rice, the tip of his ears and nose turning every shade of red possible. Kyulkyung took the chance to steal a piece of meat.

“You’re forgetting the part where he actually caught him ogling,” she helpfully pointed out. Seungkwan held up both hands in defeat.

“C’mon Seungkwan the least you could do is flirt back. Wouldn’t hurt now that he knows right?” Chan piped in again and this time Seungkwan wanted to push Chan’s head down his own bowl of udon instead. Him? Flirting back? Oh his friends surely have the brightest idea. He wanted to choke. Kyulkyung seemed to caught on his little panic attack.

“Or-” she said, “-you could just chat him up casually,” she threw Chan a pointed look and: “Like a goddamn normal neighbour.” 

Seungkwan looked up to Kyulkyung through his untrimmed bangs. Chat Hansol up casually. That maybe he could do, if they ever pass each other again anytime soon.

 

* * *

 

 

As it was, ‘anytime soon’ turned out to be two days later when he heard knocking at his front door. Seungkwan blew air through his nose, wondering who the hell was up for shit at almost 1 in the morning. He figured out it could be either Kyulkyung, way past shit-faced looking for a place to crash since she can’t drive drunk (trust Seungkwan on this since it happened couple of times before) or maybe the apartment manager telling him to look out for his cat for whatever reason- again. Seungkwan’s circle of friends wasn’t that big to warrant other possibilities of people to knock-

“-Hey,” he was greeted by those hazelnut orbs again, framed by dark long lashes that were lowered just the tiniest bit as the orbs looked down at him soon as he opened the door. Beautiful, Seungkwan had wanted to say.

“Uh- hi?” he stammered out instead. Hansol was here, in front of his door again. This time in a shirt, thankfully.

“Sorry to disturb you-” Hansol chuckled and raised a small plastic container, “-I ran out of sugar. Was wondering if I could get some from you.”

Seungkwan parted his lips to say something, but closed them again. He opened them again before Hansol could get misleading ideas like he didn’t have any sugar to spare or he didn’t want to talk to him or worst both and said: “Sure. Come in.”

Hansol grinned a boyish lopsided smile as he walked in, handing Seungkwan the plastic container. Seungkwan was trying his best to calm down and reminded himself a thousand times to ‘chat casually’ instead of freaking out like his heart was telling him too. He let himself be followed by Hansol into the kitchen.

“Am I supposed to ask about what were you doing with sugar at 1 in the morning?” he asked, trying his best to lace the question with a hint of tease. Teasing is casual, right? 

“Promise you wouldn’t give me shit if I tell you alright?” Hansol reciprocated the tease. Seungkwan was glad as he moved to the counter to scoop some sugar.

“That depends,” he gave a small laugh, soft.

“Was tryna make some cookies,” Hansol leaned on the kitchen counter, sheepish.

Seungkwan turned around to face him and raised his eyebrows, eyes widening. 

“At 1 in the morning?”

Hansol moved over to stand beside him and Seungkwan willed himself not to bounce.

“They’re great hangover stuff and I was inspired by this show I watched on tv just now,” Hansol chuckled. Seungkwan showed the container to him to get an affirmation on whether the amount was enough or not. Hansol nodded.

“Inspired, huh. I take it you get lots of hangovers, then,” Seungkwan handed the container over after sealing the cover shut. 

“I don’t know. Never kept track,” Hansol answered as they walked back to the front door. “Maybe the next time I wanna get drunk I’ll invite you over and you can start keeping track for me.” He said that last one with a childish wink and Seungkwan wanted to punch someone. Hansol maybe, for actually stupidly winking at him. Himself maybe, for his incapability to handle one stupid joke.

“Maybe you can,” his mouth got the better of his head again, and Seungkwan thought he couldn’t get more idiotic than that. Hansol was already out of the door, waving him with a ‘bye’ and ‘thanks’ and like before, Seungkwan thought it wouldn’t get any worse when it did, Hansol calling out from the hallway:

“Maybe I will, but you better not wear that silly Pikachu shorts when I do!”

Seungkwan froze, eyes slowly darting downwards until it landed on his legs and there it was; his bright orange pikachu pants fitted loosely around his thighs as sure as the embarrassment creeping up his entire body.

_ Déjà vu. _

 

* * *

 

Chan screamed in Seungkwan’s face when he told them about it the next day. Kyulkyung had doubled over as her body trembled with unbelievable laughter and Chan kept on fixing the both of them a smug look as they walked to class.

“I fucking told you so. You gotta flirt back dude!” Chan dropped down in his seat with a thud as his books were literally slammed onto the table. Kyulkyung gave him the side eye.

“You’re so gonna have to get rid of those pants-” Kyulkyung did this little eye roll and continued with a smile, “-and accept that invitation to get drunk, whenever he’ll give it out.”

Seungkwan looked at both his friends with a tired but fond smile on his face. 

“We’re not even friends, Hansol and I. I don’t think getting drunk with a stranger is a good idea guys,” he brought out his half-way done report. Chan looked a bit  shocked as he gave the report a look over, and then scrambled to bring his out too, probably realizing that it was unfinished too.

“But he’s your neighbour,” Kyulkyung snickered as she took her own report out, finished on time as always and let her two idiots of friends copy whatever they could. Calculations, for example. “-and he’s a  _ hot  _ one, according to you. Not exactly a stranger, I think,” she supplied.

Chan snorted, “Which makes the whole thing a  _ great  _ idea, Seungkwan. You need to get laid.”

Seungkwan pressed his lips into a thin line.

“Well fuck you guys too. I get by just fine,” he retorted. Chan and Kyulkyung burst into loud laughter because between the three of them, every single one knew that last line wasn’t true.

 

* * *

 

 

Seungkwan seemed to be bumping into Hansol a lot of these days.

He was at the and E-mart store across the street from their apartment, trying to pick up some milk and instant ramyun and whatever he could squeeze in the few wons he had brought with him when he saw Hansol, crouching down in front of the cereal aisle, brows furrowed in concentration as he inspected a box.

Seungkwan contemplated between saying hi or walking away to the next aisle and the latter seemed like the more appealing option until Hansol accidentally turned sideways and locked eyes with him, effectively shutting all gates of running away.

“Hi,” Seungkwan offered, small.

Hansol grinned back at him, “hey again.”

_ ‘Okay what do I say now? _ ’ Seungkwan mentally panicked and before he could panic even further blurted out “what are you up to this time?”

Of course his big mouth had to take over when his brain didn’t pick up the pace. Hansol didn’t seem to mind, though as he stood up and brushed his knees from where he was crouching.

“Nothing big. Was thinking of making dinner,” his lazy smile growing wider as Seungkwan approached him. 

Seungkwan tilted his head to the head and said, “and what does a box of Banana Chex has to do with dinner?” He grabbed a box of Oreo O’s, figuring it could fit in the bill.

Hansol chuckled at the question.

“Oh you’ll see-” he paused, and then: “-if you wanna come and join me.”

Hansol had said that so nonchalantly that Seungkwan felt stupid to even feel excited about being invited over. Hansol probably had invited a lot of neighbours over.

He looked at Hansol in the eyes, trying to find any hint of regret for actually inviting him over but found none of that, as Hansol looked at him back, intent as clear as the plastic piercing on the helix of his ears. 

“Okay,” Seungkwan replied after what finally felt too long and Hansol produced another lazy smile. 

“...but we’re not drinking after that. I have class in the morning,” Seungkwan’s free hand coming up to scratch behind his ear, bashful. What he was even bashful about; that he didn’t know.

Hansol laughed. “Cool. See you around 7 then?”

“Sure.”

 

* * *

 

 

Seungkwan paced back and forth in his room, phone in hand as he tapped insistently, signaling for help.

 

Kyulkyung: calm the fuck down boo seungkwan, it’s just a dinner

Chan: yeah now show us what you’re about to wear

Kyulkyung: not the pikachu pants, I hope

**fuck you guys, I don’t ever wear that going outside**

 

Seungkwan stopped mid-walk to look at himself in the reflection of the mirror placed right beside the bathroom. It’s just a domestic dinner, right? Nothing fancy to worry about. He looked at his red Seoul Wibee hoodie and grey sweatpants and turned around, giving his backside a once over. He’d like to think he didn’t look too shabby.

His phone buzzed in his hand and he frowned as he opened the KakaoTalk application.

 

Chan: stop checking yourself out seungkwan

Chan: pictures, now

 

Seungkwan sighed as he angled the phone just right above his chest in front of the mirror and snapped a picture. That better be good enough. Seungkwan doesn’t like to take pictures of himself.

 

**[picture sent]**

Chan: you’re wearing that hoodie on purpose aren’t you

Kyulkyung: so hot neighbour would ask you about your unhealthy obsession with volleyball

**it’s a perfectly healthy hobby guys, please don’t nag me on an entirely different topic**

Kyulkyung: hmm

Kyulkyung: otherwise I think you look ok

Chan: dude but you better get those hair smoothed down a bit

 

Seungkwan looked back at himself in the mirror. There was a tuft of hair sticking from the back of his crown. He reached out for his comb and tried to force the tuft down a bit. He failed. His phone buzzed again.

 

Kyulkyung: and don’t get any bright ideas wearing cologne. this is a domestic casual dinner so you don’t wanna come across as trying too hard 

Chan: and you might wanna look at what time it is now

 

Seungkwan’s eyes widened when he glanced at the top of his screen.

 

7.06 p.m

**thanks guys, i gotta go**

 

He slipped his phone into his hoodie front pocket, tuft of hair forgotten and quickly put on a pair of dark grey socks, promptly missing the encouraging messages his two friends left him.

 

Kyulkyung: good luck getting that ass!

Chan: make daddy proud!

 

* * *

 

 

Hansol opened the door after two knocks, closing the door behind him after letting Seungkwan in. Hansol immediately trudged back into his kitchen while Seungkwan took his time padding through the living room, taking in the minimal interior of the house. He chuckled when he saw strewn clothes laying over here and there; hanging over by the couch and covering the magazines on the floor.

“Make yourself comfortable at the counter. I’ll be there in a sec,” Hansol called from over the kitchen.

“Y-yeah sure,” Seungkwan answered from where he stood in the living room. He considered the strewn clothes for a moment, before moving over to pick them up one by one.

“Hey, where do I throw these in?” he walked to the kitchen, bundle of clothes in hand and he saw Hansol’s eyes going a tad wider than they already were.

“Man, you really don’t have to do that,” he said, and then pointed to a basket by his room.

“...and you really don’t have to make dinner for me but here we are,” Seungkwan gave an easy laugh before dumping the clothes in the basket.

By the time he settled on a stool by the counter, Hansol was almost done placing the dishes down. After scooping rice out into two different bowls and setting them on the counter, he took a stool opposite of Seungkwan.

Seungkwan stared down at the different side dishes in front of him, mouth watering by the looks of them alone. The smell was everything Seungkwan had imagined what food from cooking shows in television would smell like and better. Much, much better. Whether it was because the food was real, or because it was prepared by Hansol himself, Seungkwan didn’t know. Both, probably.

“Wow-” he started, “-you made all these?”

Hansol laughed. “If I can make cookies at 1 in the morning, you bet I can damn well make side dishes by my own,” he started digging into his bowl.

Seungkwan was still awed.

“I mean, yeah… but these aren’t even Korean… are they?”

Hansol took the pair of chopsticks he placed neatly beside Seungkwan’s bowl and forced them into Seungkwan’s still hand.

“They’re Thai dish. I wanted to try something new,” he spoke through a mouthful. “Are you gonna eat or what.”

“What,” Seungkwan blurted out absentmindedly and immediately shook his head. “I mean, sorry, of course I’m gonna eat. These look amazing.”

His first spoonful of the green curry-looking-gravy had him throwing his head backwards and eyes scrunching shut blissfully as every taste bud on his tongue was overwhelmed by the wonderful chemical work. Hansol was apparently a resident god in cooking, even when he said he was just ‘trying something new’. Hansol produced an appreciative hum as Seungkwan made even more noise at just how amazing the food was.

“Okay dude you gotta slow down. I have more on the stove if you can’t get enough,” he laughed and Seungkwan immediately reduced his chomping to a minimum as he felt the embarrassing blush creep up his full cheeks.

“Sorry. It was just  _ that  _ good. You wanna tell me what these are?” he pointed to the different side dishes.

Hansol grinned and started to introduce the dishes, starting from the green curry, and the khai phat phing which was basically pieces of chicken, followed by som tam, explaining that the last one wasn’t authentically prepared as it required special tools and was basically just a bunch of ingredients thrown in as he go. Seungkwan winced at how Hansol pronounced the Thai name, imagining himself butchering every single syllable if he tried to do so himself and overall just avoided trying to refer the dishes by their name and instead just pointing towards them whenever he wanted to ask a question.

He definitely helped himself to a second serving of rice.

“So are you studying culinary?” 

Hansol looked down and stifled a dry laugh as he scooped up some of the khai phat phing into his bowl. 

“Nope.”

Seungkwan tilted his head, surprised.

“You’re… studying something else?”

“Not really.”

Seungkwan was starting to feel really warm from just headbutting into assumptions, but gave it another shot regardless.

“...perhaps working in any kitchen?”

Hansol smiled at him fondly, like he understood the confusion and the attempt at the conversation.

“-working on it, I guess. I’m a waiter at a place a couple of blocks away.”

Seungkwan nodded, satisfied. 

“Bet you’re in college,” Hansol threw him a lopsided grin.

“Bet I am. General biology. Fun stuff, I guess,” Seungkwan supplied.

“Sounds fun to me,” Hansol laughed.

They spent the next hour just talking and getting to know each other in between drinking juice and washing the dishes and just settling back at the counter. They found out that they were both twenty, and that Seungkwan had another year of college to finish. Seungkwan had carefully asked Hansol about his Korean name and astounding command of the Korean language which contrasted his obviously Caucasian features and Hansol had just laugh it off, dropping his elbows on the counter as he revisit the story of how he was born in New York to a Korean father and an American mother but moved to Seoul when he was five and otherwise couldn’t recall how New York even looked like.

In turn, Hansol pointed out Seungkwan’s Seoul Wibee hoodie and called him a volleyball geek and they both laughed at it. It was easy being with Hansol, Seungkwan concluded.

“They were amazing last season, you should’ve seen their last game,” Seungkwan had enthusiastically prompted.

“Bet they were then.”

Hansol seemed to remember something by then, asking Seungkwan to wait while he took quick strides towards the refrigerator.

“I almost forgot about dessert!”

Seungkwan cocked an eyebrow. “You made dessert? Wow.”

Hansol brought a tray of what looked like frozen bars to the counter.

“You asked me what Banana Chex has got to do with dinner-” he carefully set the tray onto the table, “-and this isn’t dinner per se, but fuck it I guess. A dessert should count.”

Seungkwan had wanted to choke. Hansol was unbelievable.

“C’mon, try one. You gotta let me know what they taste like,” Hansol drawled out.

Seungkwan took one bar carefully between his fingers, giving it a once over to notice the crushed Chex mixed with- apples?- covering pieces of biscuits or some sort before biting into the bar and proceeded to just melt into the taste as he picked up on the vanilla ice cream sandwiched in caramel bits in between crushed pieces of cookies, overall just being pleasantly surprised at how the Banana Chex and the sour apple (green ones, apparently) complimented each other in ways Seungkwan would’ve never imagined worked before.

“-dude-” he munched, “-this is like, bomb.”

Hansol rested his chin on a palm as his elbow propped him on the counter, watching Seungkwan taking in the pleasure of eating a creation of his through droopy eyes with a lazy grin plastered across his face.

Seungkwan tuned down his excitement when he noticed the way Hansol was watching him.

“Sorry,” he said, mouth still full, “-got a bit carried away.”

Hansol chuckled at that. 

“Mhm. Don’t gotta be. That’s one way to let me know what they taste like.”

Seungkwan pushed the tray towards him.

“Be a good host and don’t make me feel awkward eating this alone.”

Hansol grinned before taking a bar himself, not breaking his eye contact with Seungkwan.

“Bet those cookies from the other day tasted even better,” Seungkwan said, recalling the memory where he so helpfully supplied sugar for Hansol’s 1 a.m. shenanigans.

“Yeah? Gotta get drunk with me first to find out,” Hansol said and Seungkwan could swore he saw the fleeting smirk that was on Hansol’s lips for a fraction of second. They leave it at that.

 

* * *

 

 

When they were done, it was almost 9. Hansol walked Seungkwan off to the front door, listening to him as he gushed endlessly about the amazing dinner and about how he only had shitty instant ramen or refrigerated kimbap for most days.

“I was kinda disappointed the Pikachu pants didn’t make an appearance tonight,” Hansol mocked-pout and Seungkwan wanted to burn the memory.

“Excuse you, no one was ever to see that,” he frowned. 

“Guess I’m special huh,” Hansol teased again.

They were about to part for the night, but Hansol stopped Seungkwan when he seemingly decided on something.

“You can come by anytime for food y’know,” he said, looking down at Seungkwan with one hand coming up to lean on the door frame.

“Gee thanks Hansol. I’ll  keep that in mind then.”

“No, I’m serious. But here, I’ll give you my number. You gotta let me know first if you wanna come since my shifts aren’t proper right now.”

Seungkwan absentmindedly gave Hansol his phone and continued staring as Hansol tapped numbers into the keypad, saved himself as a contact and giving his own phone a missed call.

Hansol wanting to cook for him again was all that played in his mind during the entire exchange and up until Seungkwan was back in his apartment again. The phone in his hand buzzed and Seungkwan opened the KakaoTalk to see two separate chats blinking. He tapped open the first one.

 

Hansol: hanging out with you was fun

 

Seungkwan smiled to himself.

 

**only doing it for the food man**

Hansol: ouch

Hansol: i’ll take any compliment i can

**go to bed Hansol. or whatever. I got tons of work waiting to kill me**

Hansol: fun stuff, I’m sure

Hansol: see you around boo

**hopefully with food**

 

He closed the chat and opened the other one. The messages were from almost an hour ago

 

Chan: better tell me everything that happened

Kyulkyung: was he nice?

Chan: answer me seungkwan it’s been an hour and a half!!

Chan: seungkwan

Kyulkyung: chan sit the fuck down. maybe they’re getting to know each other

Chan: maybe they’re getting laid

Chan: it’s been 15 minutes i’M SURE

**hey guys**

 

Seungkwan received replies after fifteen seconds of sending that message.

 

Kyulkyung: oh there you are

Kyulkyung: had a good time? :)

Chan: tell me you got laid

Chan: it’s about time

Kyulkyung: gosh, chan let him talk

Seungkwan rolled his eyes.

**yes I had a great time. Hansol’s a sick cook. no I didn’t get laid and I don’t even wANT TO EXCUSE YOU CHAN**

Chan: you disappoint me

**...but I did got a phone number and an open invitation to come hang by anytime**


	2. Hansol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hansol ponders about his life before Seungkwan, bakes some more sweet goods and proceeds to make a bad decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I'm sorry.

Seungkwan was cute, Hansol thought. Cute at how he gaped at anything and everything and cute at how easy it was for him to fall deep into his own thoughts that it takes a second longer for him to answer any question. He’s a good guy to have as a neighbour. Even better that he genuinely enjoyed any food Hansol managed to cook up in his kitchen no matter how weird.

He took a long drag of his cigarette, letting the bitter taste hit the back of his throat and fill up his being.

He remembered the conversation they had about him coming to settle down in Seoul despite being born in New York and inevitably ended up looking more like a New Yorker than he did as a resident of Seoul, had laughed at how innocent the question was without realizing how it bordered at the dark part of his life.

How his father disappeared when Hansol was nine and Sofia was five, succumbing to the ever growing pressure from his side of the family wanting him to date and marry a Korean woman and give birth to Korean children. How his mother couldn’t even go back to New York even if she wanted to; constantly running on short amount of money in order to get Hansol and his sister by. Remembered how skinny Sofia got when she was in primary school; both from lack of nutrition and appetite in itself. Remembered the bruises and cuts he sported on during his school days from beating up kids who called Sofia a mutt and having beaten up by kids more burly than him in return. Fucking xenophobics, that’s what they were.

He remembered it all.

His father showed up sometime when he was fourteen, trying his best to supply them monthly income support. It wasn’t his father’s fault; all of the shitty condition they were in, but thirteen years old Hansol couldn’t help the resent he felt for him that he refused to use any part of the money and left that to his mother and sister. Eventually he dropped out of school when he was sixteen, all interest in the academic bullshit the textbooks were trying to feed him dissipating.

He found a job as a cleaner at a bar two blocks away from their home then (how the place was never busted for hiring minors, he didn’t know), where he had his first taste of alcohol and cigarette. One day a scouting agent came in and saw him cleaning a table, and by a stroke of luck had offered him a job at his first small modelling gig.

So that was what he did; a small kid with dreams too big for his chest, modelling for cheap brands and online shops hoping to somehow land on a bigger job somewhere someday. He quitted the gigs when he turned eighteen however, having earned enough to get Sofia through high school and figuring his father would have to take it upon him to support her through college.

He’d quitted the gigs when he was going through his angsty teenager phase; furious at the hypocrisy of the people around him calling him freaks and aliens when he was just a frail half-Korean teenager who inherited more of his mother’s looks for his own good, yet banked on the very same look the most to attract attention and buyers.

He took another smoke, needing the burning feeling to calm his suddenly rising nerves down.

Things change after a few years of course. Koreans in general became more accepting and his family moved out into a better neighbourhood. Hansol’s time from being a part-time model left him in a decently proportioned muscle mass, so he got that going great for him when trying to score jobs and he had more than enough money to move again to live by himself.

So no, Seungkwan didn’t need to know about his fucked up life before the apartment. Even if Seungkwan was cute. Not yet, at least. He’ll let Seungkwan keep the perception of him as this hot flirty American neighbour who runs around in his underwear without a care for the world for a bit longer. Part of that perception was true, anyway.

He heard the door creaked open behind him and looked over his shoulder to see Wonwoo sticking his head out and looking down.

“Seungcheol sent me to tell you break’s over,” Wonwoo pressed over the last syllable. Hansol gave a quick a nod before standing up and pressing down on his apron to straighten the crinkles from where he was crouching down. He threw what was left of his cigarette into the drain beside him. His mother would be upset if she ever saw him litter, but she wasn’t there was she?

 

* * *

 

 

He finally worked his shift out with Seungcheol and Nayoung once they got enough part-timers, him agreeing to wait the restaurant for lunch and dinner services every Wednesday through Sunday and wait the bar every Monday and Tuesday and getting the whole Friday off for himself. The arrangement was great. Hansol was thrilled -if he must say so himself- to get the opportunity to wait the restaurant on those days because obviously weekends are the busiest, and Hansol loved a good crowd if it meant more tips opportunities. Plus, he couldn’t be more than grateful at his bar shifts, having got to wait for the less busy days.

It meant less chances of getting hook ups from any drunk customers who found his face pretty.

It’s bad habit, that one. Hansol knew. It was one he picked up from the last of his small modelling gig days; sleeping with people who thought he was a pretty face; one worth bragging about having as a boyfriend but still not worthy enough to truly love with their heart. 

A tool to satisfy their own needs. 

So Hansol would give in to one night stands and occasionally a week worth relationships, only to leave them later with cold words and cynical laughter.

By the time he turned nineteen, a year worth of maturity than two years before, the intentional dumping had stopped but the hook ups- they keep on coming. One partner after another. Hansol knew he have to stop and believe me he was trying, but god were habits hard to drive away. Especially ones ingrained so deeply in his veins, intertwining with history that was impossible to separate from his fibers.

He slapped the thoughts out of him as his hand pressed on the remote, switching between channels in hope to find a good show to watch before his restaurant shift starts in two hours. When nothing interesting came on, even after several times of going through every single channel there was, he tossed the remote aside and reached out for his phone instead.

Huffing, he scrolled through his Pinterest dashboard, going over suggested Pins which showed more chowders than he was interested in making then; so he opened one of his boards titled ‘stuff i’ll make, probably’ and scrolled past all the dishes he already tried emulating. He smiled a bit as he scrolled past the green curry, fondly recalling how Seungkwan had so enthusiastically scarfed down every single bits and pieces, even the smallest piece of crumbs and still blabbered about it to no end even when he was leaving the apartment.

He scrolled further, reaching part of the board where he never attempted to copy or recreate anything. Two particular Pins caught his eyes and after momentarily considering himself, Hansol got up and walked towards the refrigerator, checking for supplies. 

One corner of his mouth turned upwards in a half smile as he took his phone out again.

 

**hey boo are you good for some late supper tonight? ;)**

 

He waited for a while for a reply, leaning against his kitchen counter while his feet tapped patiently. Two minutes after that, he felt the tell tale buzz of a message coming in.

 

Seungkwan: hello please don’t tempt me like that while I’m in class

 

Hansol smiled at the message.

 

**too bad**

**I expect to see your tempted face at my place tonight around 10**

Seungkwan: uh

Seungkwan: eXCUSE ME

**see you boo**

 

He shuffled back towards the refrigerator and took out a stick of butter before moving towards one of his cabinets to take the flour container out, setting both ingredients on the counter. 

 

* * *

 

 

Lunch and dinner services went by with a breeze, occasional breaks taken here and there only to listen to Wonwoo talk about his fight with his boyfriend Soonyoung. Hansol could only listen, sympathetic. It wasn’t as if he had any good advice to give anyway, given his own record of relationships and how well they went. Besides, Wonwoo always patch it up with Soonyoung sooner or later. They were two puppies caught in a very severe lovesickness; one always drowning without each other.

“You guys’ll live,” Hansol said encouragingly as he patted his colleague’s back.

A lot of customers tipped him, and a few of the corporate people actually did a double take on him and some talking to him more than needed. Hansol figured it was the professional persona he always put up during working hours. All is good in one’s journey to pay rent and live to see the next day.

Nayoung talked to him a bit about the special request he had the other day before he was about to leave, and they leave the conversation with satisfied nods, Nayoung giving her proudest smile at him when they were finally done. 

Hansol liked Nayoung. He knew her way back from three years ago, having to shoot an online catalogue with her. She was a couple of years older, all helpful and beautiful smiles as she took care of him in every way possible throughout the shoot. They kept in touch even after the shoot, and several months ago when Nayoung told him that she was opening up a restaurant with her boyfriend -Seungcheol- Hansol gave her one hug too tight right after she asked if he possibly wanted to work with her.

17Cut was one of those restaurants that turns into a bar after dinner hours and it was just a petite lot situated between a music store and book cafe. The interior had low lights hanging from the ceiling, illuminating the whole place with a radiant golden glow and giving out an elegant vibe despite its size, much like Nayoung herself. Hansol liked the place.

He gave Nayoung one last goodbye before heading back, body warm and fuzzy underneath the jacket he was wearing.

 

* * *

 

 

Hansol was cleaning the counter top when he heard the familiar knocking on his front door. He chucked the cloth he used into the sink before walking over to let Seungkwan in. 

His first reaction was to laugh soon as he locked his eyes with Seungkwan.

“Is that your best tempted face?” he snorted. Seungkwan had his brows furrowed together, thin lips pouting and arms crossed in front of his chest. 

“Hmm. Guess your food wasn’t that tempting then,” he replied petulantly as he walked into the living room and Hansol gave out a small laugh.

“That only meant one thing and one thing only-” he deliberately paused, trying to gauge Seungkwan’s attention before dropping the bomb on him, “-it means I just have to seduce you more, then.”

Hansol wouldn’t miss the faint blush on Seungkwan’s cheeks up til the tip of his ears.

They settled down at the counter much like the week before; opposite of each other after Hansol brought out a plate of a whole lemon tart from the refrigerator. Seungkwan mouth had opened again as he gaped at the dessert, as always. Hansol watched Seungkwan take the first bite with much interest; mentally recording how Seungkwan let the fork stay in between his lips for a while longer as his eyes scrunched shut and brows pressed down, mouth producing a delighted noise the second the tart hit his tongue. 

He grinned lazily. Seungkwan had the best reactions.

“So?” he asked.

“That- that was better than the dry tart they had at the cafe,” Seungkwan breathed. 

Hansol feigned disappointment.

“Hmm. That fell short. Was expecting you to say it was the best tart ever instead of being compared to some dry tart,” he grinned as he watched how Seungkwan rapidly shook his head, eyes going wide.

“Shit no- that’s not what I meant- this is amazing, all the things you made are-”

“-calm down Seungkwan. I was just teasing,” Hansol waved a hand in front of Seungkwan to stop his little waterfall of apologies and explanations which was completely unnecessary. Hansol still thought he was adorable anyway.

They eat together after that, falling into an easy conversation and occasional banter. Seungkwan talked about his class, on how one of the animals they were to keep alive in a biosphere project escaped the ecosystem and caused a panic so hilarious that the class was to be postponed to a next session. Hansol had responded with short but committing laughs, and in turn told Seungkwan about his shifts, and together they worked out all the times Seungkwan could possibly drop by to just hang around.

“Dude, you have to tell me what’s inside the tart. I know it’s lemon but I think there’s another flavour in here?” Seungkwan asked just after he took the last forkful of his second slice.

“Mhm. How about you guess.” 

“Hmm… I’m bad at this… I think- maybe- maybe some sort of herb?” Seungkwan tilted his head.

Hansol smiled. “Almost there. It’s rosemary. Kinda covers the bitterness of the lemon and brings out the tart more. Learned that somewhere.”

“Wow. That’s so cool,” Seungkwan nodded his head.

After carrying their plates to the sink, Hansol pulled Seungkwan over to the couch before he could start washing his plate, turned the tv on and handed him the remote control.

“Pick whatever and wait for a sec,” he told him, and moved to the kitchen before Seungkwan could even respond.

Hansol swiftly took out two glasses from his cabinet and set them on the counter before moving over to the fridge to take out a tall glass of blended blueberries he prepared earlier. He reached to the side of the counter for a few mint leaves and and a spoonful of sugar, stirring in both ingredients into the blended blueberries. He walked back to the fridge to take out a jar of lime water, throwing in droplets until he think was enough. He stirred all of it together before pouring them into the two glasses earlier until the glasses are half full. 

Hansol couldn’t help the proud smirk on his lips, knowing that Seungkwan watched the entire time with his lower jaw dropped, probably thinking Hansol wouldn’t notice.

“Damn, you could’ve just made coffee and I’d go home happy but holy shit!” Seungkwan exclaimed when Hansol approached the couch with the glasses in hands.

“I could-” he said as he plopped down the couch and handing Seungkwan one of the glasses, “-or you could just shut up and drink this instead.”

Seungkwan brought his knees up and took the glass, swirling it around and admiring the cornflower blue glinting under dim lights. “Looks fancy,” he commented.

He took a tentative sip, as if trying to put a name to everything he can taste and lit up as he looked back at Hansol. “Blueberries!”

Hansol responded with a light chuckle, “read somewhere they help to wash down leftover lemony-tart taste from your palate.”

“Any secret ingredient in this one?”

Hansol laughed, “no, but usually I put some alcohol in. Don’t reckon you’d like that though.”

Seungkwan disappeared into his drink, bashful. They talked about 17Cut a little bit more, Seungkwan so gleefully deciding that he’ll go pay Hansol a little visit someday and when Seungkwan finally left his apartment that night Hansol was left struggling to put back pieces of the crumbling wall he didn’t even know had erected itself around his chest.

 

* * *

 

 

It was Friday the next day and Hansol was definitely not expecting the message he got from Seungkwan in the evening.

 

Seungkwan: hi uhm

Seungkwan: is the offer to get wasted still up

**first of all i didn’t say wasted. second of all i don’t think it was gonna expire anytime soon**

**what’s up?**

Seungkwan: a lot of shit apparently. enough to get wasted

 

* * *

 

 

Seungkwan was shit at handling his alcohol, it turned out. 

He showed up looking all small in a teal sweatshirt, face weary and very tired and hand carrying a six pack. He stumbled into the apartment with a string of apologies and curses which shocked Hansol initially. “Didn’t think that cute face of yours is capable of such profanities,” Hansol had joked, but immediately cut it out as they both sank into the couch, Seungkwan looking like he was on the verge of crying.

Right after taking the first swig at his beer, Seungkwan rambled on about how all the data he collected for a graded work was copied by an asshole of a coursemate who couldn’t bother conducting an experiment on his own, which caused him to have to re do everything from scratch as the department couldn’t find concrete evidences of who between the two of them actually copied the other.

“Fuckin’ protocols. Son of a bitch,” he slurred. 

“Mhm sounds like your typical college dick,” Hansol had reciprocated.

The work was supposed to be submitted in two weeks time and Seungkwan had babbled on how it was gonna be a fucking pain in the ass to start over with the experiments and even worse when writing the report. Hansol had listened to it all, eyes never leaving Seungkwan’s glossed ones, considerate and encouraging. At one point they sat closer together and Hansol started tracing circles into Seungkwan’s shoulder, soothing him.

Seungkwan was only half-down with his second can when his words don’t make sense anymore. Hansol still let him talk and rambled, albeit undecipherable by then, figuring he’d let Seungkwan pour all the raging emotions out. Seungkwan was such a cute drunk, he noticed. All flushed up and red with broken words coming out from lips that pout way too often. Sometimes he flails his arms around in an exaggerated attempt to make his story sounds a thousand times worse than it actually was. Most times he curled back into a hunched position, sinking further into the couch.

 

* * *

 

 

Seungkwan was about to pop open his third can when Hansol finally decided he had drank enough beer and swallowed enough tears. 

“C’mon big guy let’s get you back,” he’d chuckled when Seungkwan’s hands weakly tried to pry his hand off from where Hansol tried to pull him up.

“M’ not done. Not yet,” Seungkwan whined and Hansol smiled down at him.

“We could continue this next time Seungkwan come on,” Hansol lifted one of Seungkwan’s arm over his shoulder and hoisted him up to his feet. “Pretty sure you don’t wanna wake up feeling like shit tomorrow.” 

Seungkwan giggled. “You- y- sound like my mom.”

He giggled all the way back to his apartment where the giggle grew into erratic laughter as Hansol shoved his hand down Seungkwan’s front and back pockets, searching for the keys.

“That tickles,” Seungkwan said as he clung to Hansol for support, head falling downwards to rest on Hansol’s chest. “You- mhm- smell nice.”

“Would tickle you much longer if you don’t keep still you little punk,” Hansol sighed softly, choosing to ignore the second comment.

When they finally got inside, Hansol immediately pulled Seungkwan towards his room and made him settle in his bed. He walked out to the kitchen, filling an empty glass before bringing it back to Seungkwan. Hel forced Seungkwan to sit and drink, before moving to pull his blankets over him. By the time Hansol got out of the room, Seungkwan was already drifting.

 

* * *

 

 

Hansol woke up the next morning to three messages, all of it carrying different construction of apologies. One for bawling out like a madman, another for being a weakass drunk partner and the last one for the trouble Hansol had to go through, trying to take care of the situation.

Hansol never had anything more pure as morning greeting.

 

* * *

 

 

The following Sunday night finds Hansol and Seungkwan perched on stools next to each other at a small bar a block away from their apartment. Seungkwan was adamant on buying Hansol drinks, telling him it was a form of amendment of some sort; for all the food he winded up cooking and for the apparent mishap of a drunk Seungkwan became the other day.

“You sure about this? You can barely even drink two cans of beers without passing out,” Hansol had mocked when Seungkwan showed up in front of his door, looking all abashed under the yellow light of the hallway.

“Which is why I’m gonna get one drink and one drink only,” Seungkwan tried to defend himself. “Besides, you’re gonna take care of me if I start being dumb anyway, so.”

“Uh isn’t the point of you buying me drinks is that you get to be  _ my  _ patron while you’re at it, no?” 

“Ugh shut up and let me live for a bit.”

At the bar Hansol let Seungkwan talk about the upcoming volleyball season, allowing himself to bask in the genuine excitement as it undulates to the simple things in life, no worry in the world. Listened to the rhythmic pitch that was Seungkwan’s laughter, let it envelope him in a silent warmth. 

True to his words, Seungkwan stayed on one glass of vodka-redbull while Hansol allowed himself be talked into a second fill of mojito.

Being around Seungkwan was so easy -too easy, perhaps- that it was a form of fresh air awkwardly unfamiliar around Hansol. He’d spent most of life difficult, bullshitting his way out of situations that was most probably his fault in the first place. But Seungkwan wasn’t. A situation that was created by his fault, that is. Seungkwan had easily walked into his essence by his own will; naive and unexpected. Like the first time Hansol saw him when he first moved into the apartment, all curious eyes but lacking in resolute.

Hansol considered that last memory for a moment, as they both stumbled out into the open night air, possibly too warm for one in late September. He didn’t know whether it was because of concrete buildings around them or it was the booze he had. He didn’t  care. 

He saw the flickering adoration in those round eyes, recognized all the signs of affection in the body language Seungkwan had displayed as they tripped down roads and struggled to climb up the stairs up to their floor. Pretended he didn’t notice it regardless.

“So is this the part where you send me off to my door?” Seungkwan said whimsically, leaning against the patient wall next to his door. Hansol laughed and placed one hand against the wall, the other resting on his hip as he loomed down over Seungkwan.

“What, like in dramas?” he countered, and before he could stop the scorned habit in him that was fueled by alcohol and few aimless flirtatious words, continued: “Maybe with a kiss while we’re at that, too.”

Seungkwan was visibly surprised at first, body stiffening a bit against the wall as his pupils -slightly blown over alcohol- swept across Hansol’s face. Then he was leaning upwards slowly, and despite all the warning signs lighting up in his head, Hansol moved in to meet him halfway.

The kiss was short and was more like just a peck for what’s it worth, but it was long enough that Hansol can taste the vodka-redbull, can smell the vanilla scent that Seungkwan always had on him, can  _ feel  _ the subtle tremble running through the smaller body.

Seungkwan had pulled back first, face firetruck red and eyes glistening as he brought a nervous hand to rub at the back of his neck.

“I-uh- I’ll go in, first,” his words came out scrambling as he struggled to slot his keys in. “Thanks for the company.”

Hansol was left standing in front of the door for quite some time, brain not really performing it’s designated function to dictate a course of action. Originally he wanted to walk back straight into his apartment, jumps head first into his bed and guide himself into a needed sleep but suddenly that didn’t seem favourable at all in his current turmoil of unknown feelings.

So he descended the stairs and walked out of the building, finding a corner at the back of another and taking his pack of cigarettes out, the need to fill his chest with something else other than distress biting at him.

He shouldn’t have done that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lastly, I'm sorry (not really).
> 
> Please come talk to me on tumblr at etherealpristeen :)) I don't post as much but I talk to people!

**Author's Note:**

> *screams*
> 
> Let me know what you guys think okay an author's gotta keep living off kudos if you liked this hahaha.  
> Thanks for reading everyone! <3


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